Mrs T has been very busy. Well when I say Mrs T, I mean possibly Mrs T or one of her other multiple personalities which could also be Miss Jane, Natasha, The Housekeeper or even The Jackal. Oh come on, you didn’t really think it was Edward Fox did you? Yep, I have travelled the world on sinister missions with my leg strapped up (cripes it’s painful but at least for once I get some use out of those suspenders) and nobody really knows my true identity. In fact my whole blog and indeed my photograph is just a ruse to confuse the world and distract everyone from my deadly and sinister missions.

But I am most definitely a woman and that means that at this time of year even the likes of Mrs T is inflicted by an innate desire to spring clean. Yes, although I detest the very thought of cleaning I am by forced by nature to pull out my brush, duster and scrubber.

But I do not always use them for what they are intended. Ho hum. Indeed they often serve many other darker purposes……For example….

Recently I discovered an amazing secret; it was possible someone I knew had the recipe for The One Chocolate. This is THE chocolate that all women desire; it is smooth and creamy on the outside and sensuous, rich and moist on the inside; it sends women absolutely crazzzyyy. Oh yes; it is soooo good it makes knickers drop and bra straps twwwang and it is mouth wateringly delicious.

Mm… Mmmmmmmmm.

The One Chocolate is both mystical and magical but… unfortunately it also possesses a magnetic evil force that draws all women to it; it seduces them and then controls them. It makes them lick their lips and salivate over the mere thought of it.

So armed with this information and along with my friend Mrs A, who manufactures her own delicious chocolates, and yearns for the recipe and Fordfocusmum, my compatriot at the school gates, I set about some “cleaning.” I thought I knew who had The One Chocolate; Speedcat Hollydale, the man who suggested I blow up my kitchen. But after hours of torturing him I have found out he is NOT the keeper of The One Chocolate; I was devastated.

Who has The One Chocolate recipe? I am now uncertain; somewhere there is a man who has the recipe and I, The Jackal, am determined to find out his identity!

Of course, it was immensely annoying and upsetting to find that Speedcat did not have the recipe but after his friend Mr Intrepid coughed up the ransom, I thought it best to let the poor bemused man go. He was a gibbering wreck by then anyway. And why was that?

Well… my brush, duster and scrubber are of the most unusual variety and hugely wicked instruments of vile torture for any man. No man can resist. I am now on the scent of the REAL keeper of the recipe for The One Chocolate and I fear that soon I will have to run my tickling brush up his back till he is squirming in sheer virtual delight, flick my duster enticingly over the soles of his feet, and run my spiky bottom scrubber over his buttocks until he can stand no more teasing and finally reveal his secret; The One Chocolate recipe.

In the meantime, whilst I’m dwelling on how to continue my investigations aka The Jackal, I just like to do a few links now that finally I’ve worked out how to do it… in my other persona as Mrs T, Housewife Extraordinaire.

Well I’ve met some very interesting folks all over the world during my short time in the blogosphere. Some of you I’ve called on frequently and some I’ve popped in from time to time. Out in the global community there are so many of you that have in some way satisfied my varied interests and my curiosity about how the rest of world thinks, feels and lives that I could spend all day reading. Unfortunately, with all my commitments it is just not possible for me to read or write as much as I would like. Boo hoo! (Note to self; buy more frozen dinners, 2 small strait jackets, a medium strait jacket and a large amount of beer sufficient to comatose Mr T on a Friday night.)

I had no idea how my blog would be received and to be honest I started it for my own need to express myself in writing and nothing else. So it’s been fun and satisfying discovering that many of you have appreciated my sense of humour which I know sometimes walks very close to the line. My humour, coupled with a mouth that speaks too soon and a hand that writes before my brain checks it out, can get me into trouble at times. So apologies to anyone if I have inadvertently offended!

Anyway, for a few minutes I just like to wander through some of the blogs that I’ve read and commented on in no particular order, except for Onedia who was my first friend here in the blogging world and through her many of you have come here to read my musings. Of course Onedia is also responsible for my new blog title of which so many of you participated in the colourful decision making process. Onedia has a great blog; what I like about it is that when I pop over there I never know what to expect; humour, politics, pictures or maybe even a philosophical post on love and friendship. She is never afraid to speak her mind and discuss issues. That’s great because from discussion comes knowledge and understanding.

Of course there’s also Master Sy who I need not dwell on too much as he frequently pops up in my posts and has an enormous reputation. (Well he keeps telling me it’s a big one but really I feel I need some genuine evidence as I reckon it isn’t as big as he would have me believe.) Anyway Master Sy and I well pretty much share the same ludicrous sense of British humour so needless to say I’m often over at his site reading what completely mad drivel he has written on a par with my own. His wife is expecting their first child so what can I say? Not only congrats but hell is that child going to have some fun growing up with a dad like Master Sy.

Then there’s also my other British gentlemen friend Dear Floogie who is taking time out to write for a while. Well, I’ve been thoroughly charmed by his multi faceted personality and I am inevitably amazed at his ability to expose his inner self in the remarkable story of his life. As a frustrated writer myself I feel a certain affinity with Dear Floogie but I know he has a heap more talent and honesty.

Then when I want to twist myself in knots I pop over to Tamera’s site. It’s a site that makes you think about aspects of your personality, emotions and relationships. Although I don’t always comment it’s certainly made me think a vast amount. I am constantly surprised at Tamera’s perception, knowledge and understanding of the human psyche. And she is younger and better looking than me. Damn it!

Unfortunately, I fear there is absolutely no hope for me in the self knowledge stakes. I expect I’ll still be arsing around on my deathbed with a badly timed gag. No doubt if I get to see St Peter outside those pearly gates he’ll say;“It’s purgatory for you Mrs T and here’s the scrubbing brush, mangle and some white robes.”Hmm, I fear I could be a long time scrubbing.

Now there’s also my friend Mark, “The Actor Extraordinaire” as I call him, who doesn’t write or comment as much as he would like because, and I’m sure he won’t mind me saying, he suffers from a long term health problem. Mark is probably the most well read and literate person I know and a man of immense depth. Read his post The Two Loves of my Life and you’ll see why. And if you ever have a question about books he’s the man to ask.

Now where would a gal like me be without a toyboy to boast her ego? Deeply depressed that’s what! Of course my toyboy is Mewie; a young man who has charm and honesty coupled with a sense of fun. He shares his thoughts in his blog Sharing Life on Life. What a great title… and it pretty much sums him up.

Now some of you might recall from the comments on a previous post that I am a miserable, pathetic artist who scraped a mediocre “C” at A level. So from time to time I like to drop in at Jaffabrit’s place and gaze at her art and read her posts. It satisfies the failed artist in me to gaze at Jaffabrits’s often varied and thoroughly unique work. I’m still waiting for her sculpture made out of jaffa cakes though!

Then there’s a trio of ladies I pop by from time to time who live in India. I realised when I read Usha’s post

Rape and Dishonour how lucky I am to live in a country which allows me such equality, opportunity and personal freedom. At the same time I’ve read posts like Eve’s Lungs' Footprints and Hillgrandmum’s post about her father's death And I’ve seen that although we may have cultural differences, at heart we are no different in our feelings and sentimentalities. All over the world, no matter what our beliefs, we are experiencing the same pain and suffering, joy and happiness, love and laughter. In a world where there are so many divisions it’s good to know that underneath we are all fundamentally the same. And that can only be a good thing.

Then there’s Mr Intrepid whose site has many differing posts including personal stories, film reviews, current affairs and a whole host of other varied offerings that reflect his widespread knowledge and experiences. Of course he tries to pass himself off as some executive but with all his posts about music I reckon he’s actually an old pop star. Possibly a New Romantic since he seems to have an unhealthy interest in bands of the 1980s. I suspect that he really wears one of those frilly shirts and possibly by the time he’s had his scrumptious cooked breakfast it is absolutely plastered in egg yolk and tomato ketchup. (I’m not saying he is partial to descriptions of yummy food and drink but since I’ve been reading his blog I’ve put on half stone just by reading.) What’s more I even started playing golf where in the past I would rather have a hole in the head then a hole in one.

I can’t mention everyone today but I’m going to end on Mark Stoneman who is a Historian. If you’re interested in history, politics and current affairs you should pop over for some intellectual debate. Lord! I can hear you say, why would Mrs T be interested in Mark’s site which is pretty academic and political?

Well…..just because I like waffling…...

I’ll let you into a little secret…..

Before I studied Silencers and Bomb disposal with the SAS and long before I studied Dishcloths and Cleaning Solutions, I also studied History and trod the hallowed halls of some ancient university. (Ok, it wasn’t Oxford or Cambridge but it sounded good!) Like Mark, I was particularly interested in German History (which also accounts for my unhealthy interest in boots.) Anyway, I didn’t end up specializing in German History.(Frankly, everyone was sick of me dressing up as Adolf Hitler and doing maniacal impressions so in a way I kinda sympathize with Prince Harry.) I decided to specialize in Bottoms instead. Yes, with My Professor, David Loades, I talked about big bottoms, small bottoms and bottoms that inevitably sink.

Oh, perhaps I should explain.. “Bottom” is a term that was used in Tudor times to refer to boats.

So I‘d just like to point out that;

1.Elizabeth I never married because she had more than one bottom (which is pretty unpleasant.) Further, when she was on her bottom it often got whipped up by the wind and gave her maidservants some very unpleasant experiences.2.(Especially for Mr Intrepid ‘cos I’m sure he will remember this) It also means then Simon Le Bon from Duran Duran was trapped upside down in an air pocket in his own bottom. (That’ll teach him to sing so badly; luckily it was not caught by any Girls on Film otherwise his stud reputation would have ruined.)

3.It also means that Richard Branson’s bottom is as big as his head. (Yeah, and if he gets stuck in his own bottom like Simon Le Bon I for one will rejoice.)

4.Frances Drake had a golden bottom and it often followed behind him. It was a very attractive bottom which Elizabeth I was hugely attracted to but since she had such a big bottom herself she wouldn’t fully commit. Drake was so disenchanted he sailed off to circumnavigate the world… only to find on his return that Raleigh had burnt the Queen’s bottom with his newly discovered tobacco and was now the Queen’s favourite.

5. A Titanic bottom is very dangerous; if you hit ice not only will you get piles you will not be able to float.6. Vikings had bottoms. Which is just as well because they’d have looked pretty stupid sailing across the oceans in small silly hats with only two spiky horns to erect their sails on.

7. A small bottom which meets a big bottom can be very dangerous situation; a clash of bottoms can lead to soreness which can be pretty unpleasant and difficult to solve. Try spreading Sodocream cream over a 50 foot yacht and you’ll know what I mean.

8. Queen Elizabeth II once had a Royal Bottom. But alas it got too expensive to maintain and now she has to make do with a tin hat. The tin was mined in Cornwall where there are many bottoms but where all the sailors have silly accents that no one can understand. Indeed when they call out the Lifeguard the Lifeguard never turn up as they think it’s a call from an alien space craft and contact the FBI instead. The FBI thinks it’s just George Bush being a silly arse again, put the phone down and then call for the ambulance.

9. I’d like a smaller bottom as my current bottom is way too heavy. While this means I look fairly prosperous it’s also means when I go sailing I might just keel over. Worse, you can never get bikinis to fit big bottoms without showing too much hull. (And if you’ve ever seen Vanessa Feltz in her bikini you’ll know exactly what I mean.)

10. Never, ever, ever call your bottom Poseidon. People will think you’re crazy. It will ruin your career and people will hate you for all eternity. (Unless you’re Gene Hackman... cos he’s kinda sexy, especially in a dog collar.)

I’d just like to end on a famous historical quote from Elizabeth I

“I know I have the body of a weak and feeble woman, but I have the heart and bottom of a king, and of a king of England too; and think foul scorn that Parma or Spain, or any prince of Europe, should dare to invade the borders of my bottom.”

And that was why Elizabeth was named the Virgin Queen; she had a big arse.

Toodle pips for now.

Mrs T.

(By the way I didn’t really deserve my degree as I was frequently distracted from my studies. Nevertheless I still passed; I expect it was something to with my bottom which was a heck of a lot smaller in those days.)

Comments

I already have the frozen dinners, the strait jackets and the beer to hand and STILL I don't have enough time to do what I want (chiefly, to laze around, but no need to go into detail at this point). Where do I go from here? What would Speedcat Hollydale do? Please advise.

I will have you know my reputation is every bit as big as the measuring tape used to measure it. I have never understood why the inches are so much closer together then usual measuring devices, but who am I to complain? It reached 4" afterall!

Now. As for the small person...can you imagine just how she is going to turn out?! I just dont think the world is ready for this.

I'm even more impressed that I've been found out to be your toyboy (btw, in America, we are known as "boy toys"). Thank you for the very kind words. I am inspired and because of this post, I shall someday write a post about the wonderful people I've come across off the the blog world. Not anytime soon since it's a very short list thus far. I just don't 'get out much' when it comes to blogging these days.

Watch out for those seductive chocolates. It gets worse when I hear it's good for your cholesterol - another temptation to keep on eating with delight. =) At least you're living it up and Mr. T knows what to buy you for your satisfaction.

Thanks again for thinking of me. I certainly enjoy sharing life with you and your blogs. God bless.

Hey FFM you've already got strait jackets? Where did you get them; I need them quickly..and more importantly can they double as a corset?( My gut's looking a wee too big lately and I think I need to take some drastic measures.)

Oh come on Sy, don't put yourself down! Only 4 inches? Now you know Mrs T only ever says anything in jest; she's absolutely sure you've got a very, very big reputation. (Well that's what the assistant told me at the check-in desk as the she was wrapping her scarf around her neck.)

Hey, that little girl is going to be a beauty and you know it! I can see you now swinging around in the air and chasing her around the garden....

I did that to my boys.. till they got too big; now they chase me around usually.. with those bloody water pistols in their hands... it's a hard life being a mother to three boys I can tell you.

Here's a tip; one child is lovely; two ain't so bad; three; get a vascetomy FAST.

Onedia; Thanks O! And thanks too for your many comments which are always appreciated.

Mewie; OOoh Mewie "Toy boys" sounds much better than "Boy toys". Over here a boy toy would be a car or a (useless) electrical gadget.

Hey, who cares if it's only a short list; your'e a busy chap and I KNOW you'd rather a few proper friends to communicate with than a whole load you don't. Am I right?

Let's go breakdancing together someday Mewie.. you do the dancing.. I'll do the breaking.

Sorry Jane/Jayne/Natasha. I have mislaid the strait jackets. (I told you the house was a tip. They are probably in the utility room ...)

The good news or the bad? The good news is that there is, somewhere in this country, someone called Roy who is a Swiss-trained chocolatier. His chocolates are out of this world and his French accent isn't bad either. When you've chosen the chocs., he weighs them and says 'And we are 'aving ... (and here he specifies some astronomical sum on a par with what Posh would pay for a handbag)'. But the chocs are WORTH IT!! The bad news is that he has moved to Cornwall and I don't have his address! Damn! Back to the drawing board ... Where IS Speedcat when you need him?

Miss Jayne, this is a delightful post. I'll have to do a little research on the "bottom" thing. You are a very clever writer with a creative imagination. I've enjoyed our inter-changes... Thanks for the review of my blog. More to follow I'm sure.

Lordy, if Roy has gone to Cornwall there's no chance of finding him. With that accent they've got down there you'd never follow any directions! Still, I suppose I could try sniffing the chocolate out. In fact, me thinks I smell some choccy now....Mmmmmmmm... I think it's in the pantry.....

Aha! You keep a secret stash of chocolate in the pantry? Interesting ...

My house. Messy doesn't begin to describe it. As Mr FFM is always remarking, everything is all over the place. Even I sometimes feel Spring Cleaning Syndrome coming on but I can never get myself, the mops and dusters and the right mood to get together in the same place at the same time. I am perfectly capable of writing 'sort out rubbish for school fair' on a list but the logistics?

I would be much better off in a Senior Management role where I had several underlings (Logistics Managers) to sort out the detail. Where did I go wrong?!!

Here's one for your in-tray; the cycle of Housework Deprivation. This is where whole generations of (and I'm afraid I have to be sexist here) mothers and daughters never see a Hoover used in anger or a duster anywhere but on a supermarket shelf. What are they to do? They have no skills or training! There must be Government Action! Targets! Free Housework Workers! (I think they could be a bit like social workers but they would only come when you are out.) Think it would 'wash'? Excuse the pun. By the way, my mum is blameless in all of this. She used to be, of all things, a Domestic Science teacher! Go figure ....

Now now FFM you must know it is politically incorect to say "Hoover"..it is a VACUUM CLEANER as any good sales consultant will tell you. Personally, I have a "Dyson" and I must say it sucks rather well.

Oh yes, none of these young 'uns have any idea about the hard grafting that us (slightly) older ladies do. Why it is positively disgraceful.. to be out there in the world enjoying yourself where the likes of you and I must scrub those pots and pans all day with our sleeves rolled up, curlers in and pinnys on.

Your mum used to be a domestic science teacher? Not as exciting as a proper science teacher I'm afraid;it would be so exciting to have a legitimate excuse to play with those bunsen burners.

My mother was a nurse. Needless to say she was exceedingly good at securing bandages... around my mouth.

Do you know how hard I've had to work to get those stains out Mr I?? Lord, you are a messy fellow! Now the shirt is looking pretty good now..well apart fom the holes.. sorry I didn't tell you I'm not that good at ironing either... Anyway I kinda like all those frills myself so I think I'm gonna wear it... I'll have to put a couple of patches over the holes first.. I 've got two handy. The first one says;

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